Disco was king on 1978. Rock and roll was a distant second and punk barely scratched the airwaves. Everyone was into Disco. Donna Summer, a Dorchester native, ruled the charts with MacArthur Park and Last Dance, Chic took over in December with Le Freak. The shout for Disco echoed across the country and world. While Jimi Hendrix had played the National Anthem soloing with her teeth at Woodstock nine years ago, thankfully no one disco covered GOD BLESS AMERICA or THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER.
Rock's dilemma is that the genre has stagnated with the corporate middle-of-the-road all stars simply recording formula stadium rock. Only metal and punk fight the trend with the old aged executives taking the easy path for profit. The radio is all MOR and Disco. Where have Motown and Stax and Philly gone? After the race uprisings of the 60s and 70s, white people didn't want to see blacks anywhere. The NBA is dying and disco has no politics to it.
I sit at home listening to the old 45s, playing solitaire, and await a phone call from an unknown source saving me from further ruin. None come, and solitaire loses its appeal once you cheat at it.
Tonight I'm going to CBGBs. I haven't been there since last Friday's peyote trip with Bill Yusk. Completely fried.
Rock and roll decay The Rolling Stones mellow Mainstream The Beatles dead Still on the radio Fucking Rockie Raccoon The stars of the 60s Fat, drunk, or dead Useless, boring, or wasted. Not Van Halen or Black Sabbath Certainly not Iggy Or the Dead Boys. They'll never make it on the AM charts.
Drinking beer has temporarily killed my thirst. In the world Iran awaits the Shah's death. Taiwan feels betrayed by our treaty with Red China. Murders never-ending murders across the USA. Fuck it. No one cares about anything,
The old wind shivers through the drafty windows. I wait for the clock to hit 11, then I'll head over to CBGBs. The Theater. The Dictators and the Dead Boys.
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